SHAPESHIFTING ALIENS LAND IN METROPOLIS
by Eileen
Summary: Men In BlackSuper Friends sort of crossover. CURRENT STATUS: On hold


SHAPE-SHIFTING ALIENS LAND IN METROPOLIS Valued Gateway Client Normal Valued Gateway Client 2 5 2001-10-28T12:21:00Z 2001-11-09T02:30:00Z 10 5714 32571 271 65 39999 9.2720 

SHAPE-SHIFTING ALIENS LAND IN METROPOLIS!

An MIB/Super Friends crossover 

(Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.)

They didn't actually land in Metropolis proper, as it turned out; it was in a field just outside of the city.  
After a brief argument over Zan's piloting skills (or lack thereof), the two stepped outside to get a look at this place called Earth.  
It was a bit of a disappointment.  
There's nothing here! Jayna said in her native tongue.  
The major population center is several local distance units that way, Zan replied, checking the portable computer module. It was a smaller version of the one which had educated them on their journey.  
A thin blue rope twisted around his left ankle. He looked down to see Gleek, their pet, a creature who closely resembled an Earth monkey, looking up at him.  
Gleek gleek?  
Oh, dear, Jayna sighed. What are we to do with you, Gleek?  
We'll have to bring him in the carrier.  
But he hates that thing!  
Do **you** want to chase him all over the city?  
He'll be good. Won't you? Jayna reached down and ruffled the thick fur on Gleek's head. He chittered in response.  
We can't take that chance. You know we don't have much time . . .  
You're right. She went inside the ship and brought out a wire structure that was about three feet square. In you go, boy.  
Gleek wasn't having any of it. Gleek, gleeeeek! he shrieked, clinging to Zan's leg so tightly it nearly cut off the circulation.  
It took a little persuasion (and the promise of treats once they got into the city proper), but at last the two were able to coax their companion into the more than adequate temporary shelter. Then they set off in what turned out to be the wrong direction. They were headed for the city, all right--the wrong part of the city.  
  
About thirty miles upstate, in a building that didn't officially exist, an alarm went off.   
"We have an unauthorized landing," Zed told his assembled MIB agents. "Here, outside of Metropolis." The twins pulled up a map of the area, showing the landing site. "J, K, L, and X."  
Agent X, the first alien MIB agent, didn't look too happy to be called upon for a routine assignment. His partner L looked even less happy.  
"You will examine the craft, determine if there were any passengers, and if so, detain them for questioning. You may **not**, at any time, draw a weapon on them. We don't want a repeat of last week's incident."  
"He was going for a gun!" X insisted.  
"On what planet," L asked, "are guns shaped like handkerchiefs? He was blowing his nose!"  
"It was a mistake anyone could have made!"  
"And it won't be made again," Zed stressed. "A containment unit will be standing by if our visitors turn out to be hostile. K, you're in charge. Dismissed."  
As the four left the briefing area, J noticed how his partner had been studying the photographs of the alien ship intensely. "You got that look on your face. The one where you know what's going down, and you just want to see if your hunch plays out. Am I right?"  
"Half-right," K admitted. "I know the origin of that ship. Exor."  
"That's one I haven't heard of."  
"Not surprised. They don't go for much interstellar travel. Mostly keep to themselves."  
"They ever been here before?"  
"Once. About thirty years ago. Turned out to be a misunderstanding."  
"You think maybe that's what this is?"  
"I won't know," K said, "until I get a closer look at the ship. Close enough to check the registration, anyway."  
They climbed into their standard-issue LTD--J, as always, complained about not being allowed to drive--and headed toward the Metropolis Freeway.

"Well, looky here," a voice behind them said.

Zan and Jayna turned around to see several roughly-dressed male figures emerge from the shadows. They didn't look like a welcoming committee.

"I thought the _Star Trek _convention was next week, Spike," the one closest to Zan said. He fingered the boy's pointed ears.

"We no want trouble," Zan said in imperfect English.

I thought you said you knew their language! Jayna whispered furiously.

They speak a dialect I don't understand.

Yeah, right. You were probably playing games instead of using the Linguatron!

At least **I** wasn't playing with dolls!

She snorted and stamped a foot. Those were part of an interactive, holographic representation of a city, **not **dolls!

Was this represented in any part of your city?

The one the tough had called Spike laughed. "I love the made-up language. Tell me, sweetie," he said, one grubby hand on Jayna's cheek, "what's the word you people have for—OOOOOOHHH!"

She kicked him in the stomach and twisted free, reaching around to touch right hands with Zan. There was a flash as their powers activated.

Grrarl! Jayna invoked, and transformed into a huge creature with lots of teeth.

Water spout! Zan became a jet of water which turned on the other members of the gang, driving them back.

Spike tried to back away, tripped, and fell onto his back, staring up at the creature that had just moments ago been a lovely young girl. "Don't eat me, please, for the love of God, don't—"

She nipped his arm a little, just to teach him a lesson.

Spike ran as if the Devil himself were after him, slipping a little on the wet pavement but not falling this time.

That was a close one.

We don't have time for these silly games, Jayna! We need to find Superman right away!

They touched hands and changed back.

Gleek? An impatient squeek came from the carrier as Gleek tried to persuade the two of them to let him out.

What's the matter, boy?

Gleek. Gleeek gleek gleeeeeek!

See? I told you he hates that thing!

Jayna reached into the carrier to stroke Gleek's outstretched arm. I know you hate being cooped up, but . . . For a moment she felt the world spinning around her. Then she took a few deep breaths, and it went away. . . . but this is something we have to do, if we want to stop the Overseer from totally destroying Exor.

So how are we supposed to find Superman? Zan asked her.

I don't know! Ask someone where he lives?

"What are you guys buggin' **me** for?" Jeebs demanded. "I ain't done nothin' illegal!"

K just looked at him.

"All right, all right! **Today**. So what do you want from me? Information? Exotic weaponry? Spare human suits? **What**?"

"We're looking for survivors of a crash outside of Metropolis. Exorians. We don't know how many yet."

"Those are the ones with the pointy ears, right?"

"Yeah, that's them," J said. "Seen 'em?"

"Nah. We're a ways from Metropolis, in case ya hadn't noticed."

X rolled his eyes (and he had plenty to roll, at least beneath his human mask). "Could we get **on **with this? I have soaps to watch!"

"Ix-nay on the oaps-say," L chided him sotto voce.

"You **will **keep us informed if they should happen to show up?" K said, giving Jeebs a no-nonsense look.

"Uh . . . yeah, K, whatever you say."

As the screen went blank, J turned to X and asked, "Soaps, huh? Which ones? _All My_ _Children_? _General Hospital_? Wait, I got it—_Bold and the Beautiful_!"

"Shut up," X grumbled.

In the kitchen, the Worms were gathered around the coffee pot, as usual. "Hot liquid nirvana!"

"Colombian special roast!"

"The drink of the gods!"

"Hope K doesn't find out we're using his favorite mug."

"If he does, we're toast."

"We're fish bait."

"I won't tell if you won't."

Their space was invaded by Zed, who came in to refill his travel mug. (Not that he ever went anywhere.) He looked at the Worms and said, "Hope that's not K's mug you have there. He's real sensitive about anyone touching his coffee mug."

The Worm who had the mug tried to hide it behind his back. "Mug? What mug? I don't know what you're talking about." He began to whistle and shift his eyes from one side to the other.

Zed's comm beeped at exactly that moment, saving the Worms further interrogation. "Yeah?"

"K here. Good news is, the ship is intact. L's checking the flight log."

"And the bad news?"

"The passengers aren't here. We have no idea how many there were or if any of them were injured upon impact."

"At least one of them is male," L said.

"How can you tell?" asked J.

"He left the seat up." The ship's waste-disposal system resembled a particle containment grid like the ones used for protoplasmic life forms back at MIB headquarters. "And he forgot to wash his hands, too."

J rolled his eyes. "I'm not even going there."

"Can you give me the ship's registration number?" Zed asked. "I can have the twins look it up and find out who owns it and if it's been reported stolen . . ."

J scanned the side of the craft. "3-8-7-6-1-2-weird squiggle mark-5-7-8-squiggle-happy face-2-A-4."

The twins punched the number into the database and came up with a name. "OK, folks, here's the scoo. Ship belongs to an Exorian defense officer name of Hesul. Reported it missing just a few hours ago."

"Not stolen?"

"Strangely enough, no. Claims he might have forgotten where he parked it. Picture coming through now."

J, K, and L noted and saved the image for future reference. X, on the other hand, was sitting in the car, watching a hand-held video screen showing the Soap Network. Currently playing was "All Our Yesterdays," a made-for-cable exclusive that he never missed. If only they made a pocket VCR, he could tape it.

"Turn that thing off," L ordered as she got into the car.

"But it's the best part! Sondra just told Ken that she's been sleeping with his brother! They've been building up to this all week!"

"Stow it!" L demanded. A few months ago, it would have been unthinkable for her to use that tone of voice, but since she'd been partnered with X, her nerves had been on edge so much that she yelled at everyone.

X reluctantly turned off the TV. "It's a good thing they repeat them on Saturdays," he said as he drove away.

Jayna sat on a bench outside the shop where Zan had gone to sell some of their things. They would need money if they were going to be here a while, and it looked like they were.

She really needed the break; she was tired and kind of dizzy from all that walking. Or was it left over from the fight? Maybe she just needed a drink of water, and she'd be okay.

Gleek's carrier was at her feet. Several passersby had stooped down to peer in at the "unusual animal". 

"Oh, what a sweetie!" one woman gushed. "What type of monkey is he?"

"He's an Asian Blue," Jayna replied. It was the first time in her life she had ever lied to anyone.

"Really? I've heard they're very rare . . ." The woman went on to tell the story of her sister's husband's brother's daughter, who had one of the fictitious primates in her apartment. "I think that' s the kind she has. They're really a gentle breed, no trouble at all. Kristina says she just leaves the food out in the morning and locks the door, and Mischa—that's her name—stays put. She waits for her at the front door and everything . . ."

Jayna was only half-listening, nodding in what she hoped were the right places, wondering what was taking Zan so long. Did all people on this planet talk so much?

" . . . and I'd heard they peed all over the place, but Mischa has her own little litterbox, and she goes in it just like a cat! Isn't that something? And she never claws the furniture or sheds . . . "

As the woman's endless monologue went on, Jayna felt dizzy again. Deep breaths didn't seem to help this time. She felt like she might faint.

She clutched the back of the bench for support, and in a moment the feeling passed. And the woman was still talking.

" . . . have to go get my car before they tow it away. You have a nice day now. Bye, sweetie!" she said to Gleek. Then she was off, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.

Just then, as if on cue, Zan came back, carrying a bag and a wad of cash.

Here, put this on, he said, holding out a floppy pink hat.

What for?

So we don't get harassed again. He had chosen a black hat with a wide brim, and an aqua blue jacket over his purple jumpsuit. There was a pink jacket in the bag for Jayna.

How much of that do you have left? She pointed to the cash.

Tons. Micro-circuitry is worth a lot here.

Can I get a drink of water somewhere? She put on the floppy hat and the pink jacket. The two of them looked like some strange pastel gang as they went on down the street.

There was a newsstand on the corner that sold drinks. Right on the front rack was a copy of the _Daily Planet_ with a photo of Superman in full color. 

"Can I help you?" the proprietor asked.

"Water," Zan said, while Jayna studied the paper.

The man got a bottle of water from the cooler. "You want the paper too?"

Jayna looked up. "Yes, please." She reached up and put it on the counter.

"Four-fifty."

Zan peeled off one of the bills and laid it on top of the paper. The man looked at it.

"You got anything smaller than a fifty?"

Zan took the bill back, compared it with the others he held. "No, they're all the same size."

"I mean, a smaller denomination."

"What that?"

Jayna indicated the numbers on the corners of the bills. "Sorry, we're not from here."

"I might have guessed." The man took a twenty and gave them back change. "Where **are** you from?"

"Hong Kong," Jayna said. Lie Number Two. She suspected that by the time they left this place, the number would be in double digits.

"Really? My wife's sister's from there. You just come over?"

"Yes."

"Well, welcome to America. Stay away from the gangs in Chinatown, they're bad news." The man tossed them a wave as they took the paper and water and moved on.

Well? What now? Jayna asked.

See this? Zan pointed to the bottom of the paper, which had the _Planet_'s address. If we go here, they can tell us where to find Superman.

But how do we get there?

"Taxi!" a man on the sidewalk ahead of them called, waving his arm. A yellow vehicle stopped in front of him, and he got in.

The twins looked at each other. It's that easy?

Let's try it. Zan stepped to the curb and yelled, "Taxi!", waving his arm just as the other man had done.

Nothing happened.

Maybe you're not doing it right.

I **know** what I'm doing!

Then why isn't it working?

All right, Miss Smarty-Pants! **You **do it, then!

Fine! Jayna waved her arm just as a gust of wind came along, blowing her skirt up around her waist. 

Six vehicles stopped with a screech of brakes. 

Why didn't I think of that? Zan teased her as they climbed into the first taxi. They had a little trouble getting the carrier in, but a good push did the trick.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Jayna handed him the paper. "Take us here," she said.

"It was awful, man!" Frank the Pug was voicing his displeasure at having to spend the better part of three hours in the back seat of the LTD while L lectured X on his addiction to soap operas.

"Get to the point, Frank," K prodded him.

"The point . . . oh, yeah. This guy I know from the bar says a friend of his got in some unusual merchandise in his shop a little while ago."

"What **sort** of merchandise?" J wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

Pausing to scratch away some fleas, Frank said, "Some kind of computer parts. Real sophisticated stuff. I, uh, thought you might like to take a look at it, so I bought it from him. It's in the trunk."

"We want to see it," J told him.

"**Now**," K added with a "don't tread on me" expression.

"All right, all right! Hold your horses!" Frank popped the trunk open and dragged out a satchel full of hardware. "It's mostly disassembled, but he didn't do nothing to it but take it apart."

"Then we can put it back together again," K said. "We'll take this back to HQ and see what we can learn from it." 

"You think you could maybe give me a ride home?" Frank demanded.

J looked at K. "Should we?"

"If this is what I think it is," K replied, "I'd say he's earned it."

"What do you think it is?" J asked.

"Part of a sophisticated Exorian computer system. I think we'll find that the metal and circuitry match up with the larger one on the ship."

X stared in amazement. "And you know this just by looking at it?"

"It helps. But the real tipoff was the energy signature the twins noticed when they ran it through their computer. It's a combination navigator/communications control system/defense system/medical data bank."

Frank whistled. "Jeebs would give his right arm for that thing!"

"Yeah, but he'd just grow another one," J said.

"Can I help you?" Lois Lane stared at the two strangely dressed teenagers who had entered the _ Planet_'s lobby.

"Where is Superman?" Jayna asked point-blank.

"I wish I knew," Lois sighed. "He only seems to show up when I'm falling off a building or getting shot or something."

"Doesn't he live here?" Zan asked, confused.

Lois began to laugh at that. "No, it just seems like he does. What brings you to Metropolis—besides Superman?"

Jayna started to answer, but suddenly her entire body started swaying back and forth as if in a high breeze. Finally she lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor.

"Jayna!" Zan rushed to her side with Lois close behind. Lois turned to a copyboy and shouted, "Call 911!"

Gleek frantically tried to escape his carrier, but the lock held. Lois picked the contraption up and moved it closer to the two teens. She glanced at Zan and saw a look of excruciating torment on his face.

When the ambulance showed up, he refused to leave her. In their whole lives, the only minute they'd ever been apart was the one between their births. How could he leave her now, not knowing if he'd ever see her again?

They had barely left Metropolis when Zed buzzed them.

"We've got a positive ID, based on the descriptions Frank gave us. Two kids reported missing from a government-run group foster home." The pictures came up on the screen. "Zan and Jayna, both 16. Twins, as a matter of fact. Orphaned about ten years ago, they've been bouncing around from one home to another . . ."

"Troublemakers?" K asked.

"Not according to Mrs. Haslop, the social worker in charge of the home," Zed told him. "It's difficult to place two together, especially when they're . . ."

There was a burst of static, as they passed under a bridge, that eliminated the last part of his sentence. By the time they got him back, he was in the middle of another one.

" . . . found them," he said. "They took a cab to the _Daily Planet _building."

"The newspaper?" asked J. "What for?"

"Apparently to contact Superman."

"They still there?" K asked.

Zed consulted a readout. "No, they were just taken to Metropolis General Hospital. Seems the girl, Jayna, had some sort of fainting spell."

K radioed L, then turned the LTD around.

"Hey!" Frank protested. "What about me?"

"Don't worry, Frank," K said, "we'll come back for you as soon as we've got the kids secured."

"What about the reporter lady?" J asked.

"We'll worry about her later. If we have to, we'll keep her in isolation."

"What for?"

"Two words, Slick: Lex Luthor."

"Why would old Chrome-Dome be interested in her?"

"He's interested in everything, especially high-tech weaponry. If he gets his hands on that ship . . . he's done it before." 

J's eyes widened at that, bu he said nothing.

They met up with L and X in the hospital parking lot forty-five minutes later. "Bio-hazard unit's on its way," L said. "I've called in backup in case we need it. At this point we don't know if it's an Earthly virus she picked up or something she brought with her."

"And Lois Lane?" J asked.

"If it's the latter, we'll need to keep her confined," K said. "We don't want a repeat of the '72 Soho Dinner Party incident."

"The what?"

"Guy had about 25 friends over to celebrate his birthday. Didn't know one of them was an unregistered Tarkalian who hadn't passed customs. Gave him one hell of a birthday present: before we got to them, 13 people were dead, and the authorities were beginning to pick up on it. We had to pass it off as a new strain of Asian flu."

They went inside, K with his neuralizer ready and J watching out for hospital security.

"The girl's on the fourth floor. Room 218," L said after having checked with the front desk. "She's listed in critical condition."

"We'd better hurry, then," J replied.

They took the stairs and found her room . . .

. . . where Zan sat by his sister's bedside, keeping a close eye on her and trying to hold her hand. She had so many tubes in her that you could  barely see her body underneath. She was struggling to stay conscious, but it wasn't easy.

"Go wait outside," L told X.

"Why?"

"Because I need you to stand guard in case someone comes. No weapons!" He had started to draw his sidearm, and her hasty shout stopped him.

"Not even a warning shot?"

"**NO!**"

He stalked out, looking hurt.

The Lane woman was standing off to the side, watching the kids.

"Ms. Lane?" K said.

She looked over at him. "Do I know you?"

"Highly unlikely. Health Department, Division 6. Care to tell me what happened?"

"It's the strangest thing . . . they came in, asked for Superman . . . she seemed fine, then all of a sudden she collapsed. They said she was having trouble breathing in the ambulance, then I got here and she's wired up like a Christmas tree. What's wrong with her?"

L was running a small diagnostic instrument over the girl. "Looks like pneumonia," she said.

"You're sure?" K asked.

L nodded. "We can treat this easily. Once we get her on antibiotics, it should clear right up."

"Thank you. Ms. Lane, we need you to step outside for a second . . ." K led her out into the hallway. There was a flash, and then he came back alone.

"That should keep this off the front page," he said.

Zan looked up at the new arrivals. Something about the dark suits disturbed him. They looked . . . official. "What you want?" he asked, in his imperfect English.

Easy, son. We're here to help your sister.

J couldn't believe his ears. "You speak their language? You been holding out on me?"

"I speak several languages," K replied. "It's not something that comes up in everyday conversation."

He turned back to the boy. We're going to take her someplace where you'll be safe. We have medicines that will cure her, and you if you need it . . .

"No," the boy said. 

K looked at him, surprised.

We need to find Superman first! There's not much time left!

Not much time for what?

The Bio team arrived just then. "What have we got here?"

L filled them in on the Jayna's medical condition. "No need for containment procedures, though you may want to keep an eye on the boy."

"What for?"

"He's been exposed to the same virus she has, though he hasn't shown any symptoms yet . . ."

J froze at the news. "You want to run that by me again?"

All of a sudden K's communicator beeped. "Yeah?"

"K, it's Zed. The twins have picked up a high-priority message coming from the Exorian underground."

"Underground? I wasn't aware they were at war."

"No information in the message. Whoever sent it wants to talk to the kids. Mentioned them by name."

"Hate to say it, but one of them isn't really in a talking mood, and the other one isn't looking too good either," J spoke up, and K shot him a "do you **mind**?" look.

"Slick's right. The girl's pretty much out cold. She'll need at least 12 hours rest before she's ready to talk to anyone."

"J, help us!" L called suddenly. "We've got a problem!"

J and K rushed over to see what was wrong. They found L and the Bio team being assaulted by what looked like a blue monkey.

Gleek gleek gleeeeeeek! The monkey squealed, leaping onto the team leader's back.

"AAAAAGGGGHHH! Get it off of me!" the team leader shrieked, trying to pry the creature off his neck. "He's a furry little psycho!"

He thinks you're trying to hurt her! a voice called out.

"What did he say?"

"He said the monkey thinks you're trying to hurt the girl," K translated.

"Then somebody get him a banana or something!"

Come here, Gleek, Zan called, holding out his arms.

Gleek?

It's okay. They're here to help. Let go of the man."

"What in the hell is going on?" Zed demanded over the comm.

"We had a slight animal control problem," K explained, "but it's taken care of."

L took a look at the team leader's neck and back. "Just a few scratches. He didn't bite."

"Thank goodness."

"Hold still. I want to put something on those."

The rest of the team moved Jayna onto a gurney, unhooking all the tubes and then reconnecting her to their own portable equipment. J thought of the scene in _E.T._ where the alien was dying. First movie he'd ever cried at, although he was almost ten at the time.

_At least this alien won't even come close to dying,_ he thought. _L really knows her stuff._

They made it back to MIB in a leisurely forty-five minutes; it wasn't an emergency, after all. 

While L and the Med team worked on the girl, K and J took Zan into another room to talk to him. Not question, not interview, just talk.

"I want to try to talk in English," K said, "so my associates can understand us. Is your English good enough to follow along?"

"I . . . think so."

"Good. There was a message for you a little while ago."

Zan's eyes went wide and he looked around. "Who? When?"

"That I don't know." He motioned for J to play the recording.

" . . . Zan, Jayna: have you made contact with the Superman yet? We've lost Zircon City and the Alou Valley. We can't hold out much longer. Please bring help as soon as you can."

J was surprised that they would have sent the message in English, until he realized that it had been filtered through the translator. 

"Who's attacking Exor, son?" K asked gently.

"He called . . . Overseer. Came from space, six days ago."

"What's he look like?" There were plenty of aggressive races out there, but they rarely ventured out of their own territory; like Earth gangs, they protected their own turf.

"Big. Three eyes. Four arms. Green, bumpy."

"Oh, no," K groaned. "Not the damn Vogons."

J looked at him strangely. "Now, I'm not the smartest guy in the universe, but I've read a few books. Weren't the Vogons the bad guys in _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_?"

"That book wasn't exactly fiction, Slick," K told him. "The author, Douglas Adams, was abducted by a Vogon ship in the Seventies. Once we rescued him, we made him believe it was all a fantastic idea for a book he'd had. The truth is worse than fiction."

"How much worse?"

"The Vogons are basically big, single-minded bullies. Once they get it into their heads to conquer a territory, they don't stop until everything is gone."

"**Everything?**" J's mind boggled at that.

"Mineral wealth, vegetation, animal life . . . and intelligent life." K nodded gravely.

"Then Exor hasn't got a prayer."

"Don't be so sure, Slick," K said. "If the Exorians have managed to hold off the Overseer this long, there may be hope for them yet."

"Why are these kids so hyped-up about getting Superman to help them? How could they know about him, way out on the edge of the universe?"

"The hot sheets, Slick."

"They deliver 'em in outer space?"

"Not the same ones, but they cover the same topics, more or less. Superman's a frequent subject: in the last year or so, he's been featured at least two dozen times in the _Tarquillian Inquirer_."

"Actually," L interrupted, "it was three dozen, but who's counting?"

"You a big Superman fan?" J asked.

"I actually read the Media files in this place."

"How's Jayna doing?"

"She's stabilized. As soon as she's a bit stronger we'll move her to an outpatient facility. I'll need to examine the boy, though, as soon as you're done with him."

"Give me the frequency the Underground used to send the message," Zed instructed the twins. "Let's see if **we** can talk to **them**."

Zan looked at Zed. "What about Superman?"

"We'll contact him and give him the rundown on the situation. I'm sure he'll agree to help you," K said.

"Are you all set with the interview portion of the show?" L asked him.

"He's all yours."

"Fine." L turned to Zan and said, "Come with me, please. I need to examine you to see if you have any signs of the disease your sister has."

"I don't feel sick," he said.

The elevator came and they got on.

"You may not **feel** bad," L said, as she pushed the button for the Medical floor, "but you could still be carrying dangerous organisms in your bloodstream. They could have been picked up from your sister, or else you two might have been simultaneously infected with some . . ." She saw the technical jargon was going completely over his head. "You two might have gotten sick at the same time."

"I don't understand," Zan said. Then all of a sudden he started to feel queasy and hot. L noticed that his eyes looked glassy and his face was drenched in sweat.

The elevator doors opened. 

"Somebody give me a hand!" L called out, half-carrying, half-dragging the boy towards the Medical Center.

She got him onto a bed next to Jayna and set it up. Just as she had suspected, he had picked up the same bug, though in a milder form. If she started him on anti-

Biotics right away, he'd pull through in no time. 

K left the same message on Clark Kent's home answering machine, office voice mail, and cell phone voice mail:

"Mr. Kent, this is Agent K from the tax preparation service. There's something we need to go over on your return that requires your immediate attention. Please call me as soon as you can, and we can set up the details."

J looked at his partner. "Tax preparation service?"

"In case he checks his voice mail in public."

The message he left on the Fortress of Solitude's computer was quite different. There was no need for secrecy in this case.

"Kal-El: a situation has come up that only you can help with. Please contact me as soon as you get this message. The fate of a world is at stake."

"That ought to get his attention," said Zed.

"Any luck getting through to the Underground?" K asked.

"Not yet. They seem to have some sort of filtering device that jams all unknown communications. I wonder if the kids know some kind of password that will get us through."

"I'll go up and ask," K said.

He wasn't surprised to see both kids were now ill; he'd been expecting it.

"I just gave him medication," L told him. "He'll sleep for a while."

"We may not have that much time," K said. "Is the girl awake?"

"Yes, but she still isn't up to talking . . ."

"That's okay. I don't need her to say a word."

K went to the girl's bedside. "Hi, Jayna. I need to ask you some questions. I know you can't speak just yet, so I want you to blink your eyes, once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?"

Blink. Good, she caught on fast.

"That defense officer, Hesul, the one whose ship you came here in: he gave it to you, didn't he?"

Blink.

"Is he with the Underground?"

Blink.

"Is he in charge of the Underground?"

Blink blink.

"Do you know who is?"

Blink.

"Is there a code phrase you're supposed to use when sending them a message?"

Blink.

"Could you write it for me?"

She took the paper and pencil he held out to her, and scrawled four words: THE ZANAT IS STABLED.

"Very good. One last question: did the Overseer arrive in a yellow spaceship?"

Blink . . . blink blink. She wasn't sure.

"Did you see the Overseer arrive?"

Blink blink.

"Did someone in the Underground see him?"

Blink.

"Okay, Jayna, you've done a good job. I'll let you rest now."

As he turned to go, she tugged at his sleeve. She handed him the paper, where she had written one word: SUPERMAN?

"We sent him a message just now. He'll be here as soon as he can."

At the offices of the _Daily Planet_, a very urgent-looking e-mail popped up on Clark Kent's computer. "RE: Your tax return", the subject heading read.

Clark frowned. He hadn't had any problems with his return when he filed it a month ago. But when he looked closer at the message, he saw the name "Agent K" in the "sender" line. He knew now that it had nothing to do with taxes.

He hit "reply" and typed: I'LL BE AT YOUR OFFICE IN 10 MINUTES WITH MY RECORDS.

"Where are you going?" Lois asked. "I thought we were going to lunch together."

"Something came up," he said. "I'll have to do lunch another time."

"If you've got some hot tip . . ." She glanced at his computer screen and saw only an e-mail about taxes. "You being audited?"

"I don't know yet. I'll catch up with you this afternoon." _I hope_, he thought, as he headed out the door. He went two or three blocks, just to make sure she wasn't following him, then shed his clothes and flew off toward MIB's secret location.

"Sir, there is a Mr. Jay on line one who wishes to speak with you."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce Wayne picked up the phone. "Yes?"

"Batman, we've got a Code 7 emergency." _Alien planet under attack; refugees seeking asylum and aid._ "We're gonna need you and the junior partners right away."

"Baby Bird is on a school trip, but I can call him back if need be. The other two will be here soon." As he said this, he hit the switch that would send the emergency signal to Nightwing and Batgirl. "What's the word from K?"

"Superman's on his way here. Anyone else you can rally to help us would be great. You guys have meetings or something, right?"

"Sometimes."

"Can you get a message to them that we need their help?"

"Will do." He was already on it. 

"Batman, this is Agent L. Be advised you may need biohazard suits due to the possible infectious nature of the virus. We have vaccines available in case of—"

"Virus?"

"The two aliens have contracted pneumonia. We think we have it under control, but we don't want to take any chances."

"I'll pass that news along." He made a mental note to pack the costume with the biofilters, the one he used when Poison Ivy was in town.

"Tell your friends to meet us at the launch site in Central Park. The bus leaves in half an hour, so if they show up late they're gonna need their own rides."

"Don't worry, they'll be there." 

"Glad to hear it," J said. "See you in fifteen."

"My apologies for interrupting the council meeting, Your Majesty," Agent K said to Queen Hippolyta, "but I must speak with your daughter at once. It's a matter of global security."

"I will summon her at once."

Moments later, Princess Diana, also known as Wonder Woman, came on the line. 

"Nice to see you again, Princess," K said. "We've got a Code 7 emergency and we need all the hands we can get. In accordance with the Amazon royal code, I'm now formally petitioning for your aid. Can you be in Central Park in half an hour?"

"Sooner, if I leave now." She turned to Queen Hippolyta and said, "I'll be home as soon as I can, Mother . . . ."

"Detective Allen, this is Sergeant Kay from Internal Affairs. We need you down at Headquarters right away for debriefing on an emergency situation that's come up in the last few hours." By the emphasis Kay put on "headquarters", Barry Allen knew it was an MIB matter. He suited up and was there before the message ended.

"They don't call you the Flash for nothing," Zed said admiringly as the Fastest Man Alive rushed into MIB HQ.

"Any sign of Hal?" Flash asked, looking around for Green Lantern.

"Not yet," L replied. She was supervising Zan and Jayna's treatment. "But we've made contact with the Exorian Underground . . . they're holding the Vogons off but sustaining heavy casualties."

"Aquaman?"

"We haven't been able to get through to him yet, but the twins are continuing to transmit the emergency message on all appropriate channels. I'm not even sure Exor **has** oceans, but if they do he'll be invaluable."

"Ferris Aircraft. Carol Ferris speaking."

"Hello, this is Mr. Zed from Research and Development. I need to speak to Hal Jordan at once. We've encountered an unexpected technical problem with one of our prototypes."

"I'll see if I can find him."

Minutes later, she patched Zed through to Hal in the hangar.

"Hal Jordan here . . ."

"Hal, it's Zed. Hope you've got your ring charged and ready to go. We've got a Code 7 in progress on Exor, which is on the border of your sector. The Vogons are attacking with everything they've got and we need major backup. We already have most of the JLA on board . . ."

"Say no more, Zed. Just tell the Worms to put on an extra coffee pot. I'll be there in ten minutes. Say hi to Jeebs for me, and tell him I want a better seat at his next poker night."

"Will do."

"A Code 7?" Robin asked his mentor.

"It means a large-scale planetary assault with refugees looking for aid and assistance."

"It also means the Exorians are getting their butts kicked every which way but backwards," Nightwing added.

"How are Zan and Jayna?" Barbara, who'd been keeping up with the whole saga via a contact at MIB, glanced worriedly at Batman.

"Still in critical condition, but improving. Agent L says they should be out of the woods soon . . ."

"Which just leaves the rest of Exor to worry about," Nightwing quipped. "And I thought the Joker was bad news."

"This is Professor Kay. I'd like to speak to Dr. Palmer, please."

"You're in luck—he just walked in." With that, Ray Palmer's secretary handed him the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ray, can you get someone to cover your classes for a few days? We have a Code 7 emergency, and we need all the hands we can get."

"Code 7? Where?"

"Exor. The Intergalactic Bus leaves Central Park in ten minutes, so you might want to hurry . . ."

"Good news," L told K moments later. "We've located Aquaman and he's on board with us. The twins have dispatched a hovercraft to pick him up off the coast of Virginia."

"Better hide the seafood entrees, then," one of the Worms said.

"Hot coffee, coming through!" another Worm said, carrying a Thermos bottle.

"That had better not be my travel mug," K warned them.

"What? Uh . . . no. Not yours. Not at all," the Worm said, grinning weakly. "Just an ordinary coffee mug we . . . happened to find in the kitchen. Not yours at all."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

The Worm looked up and saw Batman standing right behind K. "I'm fishbait."

"Give the mug back."

The Worm sighed and handed over the mug. "Denied! How cruel!"

"How'd you know he had it?" K asked Batman.

"I recognized it by the custom grip on the handle." Looking at the situation board behind the twins, he said, "I hope you guys have your heavy guns out for this one."

"We've got everything but the kitchen sink locked and loaded, B-man," J piped up. "You might say we borrowed a page from your Bat-book . . ."

"Just make sure Joker doesn't see that page, Slick," K said.

Superman came up to L and asked, "Any change in the kids' condition?"

"Some slight improvement, but we're keeping them under observation for the time being," she told him. 

Robin looked at the Worms and said, "What is it with you guys and coffee?"

"It's the drink of the Gods!" one of them said.

"The sacred bean!" another declared.

"They got a serious caffeine addiction after they drank some of Zed's private stock," K explained. "We've been trying to break them of the habit so we can actually get some work out of them . . ."

Wonder Woman showed up at the twins' control board and gasped in horror at what she saw there. The Vogons were advancing on Exor's capital city, the last stronghold of the resistance. They had to move **now** if they were going to save the planet. "We have to launch right away," she told Zed.

"We're still waiting for the hovercraft to bring Aquaman here. I don't think we need to worry about him being late."

As if on cue, the King of the Seas made his entrance moments later. "Perfect timing, Arthur," Agent X said. "I think you're the last one we need . . ."

"How many casualties so far?" Aquaman asked him.

"Twelve million dead, sixteen million wounded, and thirteen million MIA," K reported. "We may have time to save the rest if we leave now."

"Suits me," J said; with that, the JLA members followed J, K, and X to the waiting hypershuttle. The kids were put in cryostasis as the shuttle took off for deep space.

"Good luck," Zed murmured as the shuttle disappeared into the sky.


End file.
